Black Butler: Book Of Genesis
by Dorkyangelash
Summary: October 28th, 1697. A boy was born as the only child and heir to the Mandalay house - Barnabas Mandalay. Inspired by the heroic Biblical stories of purity and faith read to him by his father, the young boy continues his endless challenge against the burden of the many demons placed upon his back as he grows older... Some which may be closer than he originally thought.


"A happy birthday to you, your highness!"

Bright, light emerald eyes shone with ebullience at the greeting, the young child – Now at just six years old – Was helped down the stairs and made a stop to tightly embrace each of the many servants which awaited them down below. Among the many noises of surprise, laughter was scattered throughout the large foyer... Both from the servants, and his parents which awaited him. Gleefully, he gave a signal and had began making way towards them... To be halted right in his tracks by his nanny, Empathy.

A small look of confusion made it's way to the young boys face - What was wrong? He didn't notice anything until she leaned down to the small boy and let out a small laugh. Her voice, like a mere whisper of a butterfly, had informed him of his mishap – Quite common, for boys at his young age. "Your highness, your wig has become loose." By the time she had finished with her soft spoken statement, it was a problem already long past, however. She had already taken the courtesy of re-tying his growing hair and reattaching his wig whilst she had said it.

A look a gratitude passed the young boy's youthful features as she did so, wrapping his tiny arms as far as he could around her back and thanking her after pulling away. A brief "My pleasure" came in response a moment before she returned behind him and helped him towards his mother and father. "Oh, good morning to the both of you! Madame, sir!" Barnabas cheered, lifting his arms up to be held by his father. Such a strapping gentleman... He wished to be just like him, when he grew up.

The young child laughed merrily as he placed a kiss upon the young boy's head, and set him back down in his wheelchair. "And a happy birthday to you, my son." Taking this opportunity to show off his proper etiquette skills, the boy gave a bow – At least, tried to - and spoke as modestly as he could to impress them. "I thank you for your kindness, sir!" He chirped. Jacob laughed. "Very good, son. Rosemary, did you see him just then? Such courtesy to be shown at his own young age..." A small smile made it's way to his mother's pale lips. "Oh, yes. He will grow up to be a fine gentleman like his father."

This caused Barnabas' cheeks to flush a bright pink. "Truly?" He asked with awe. His father had always been his role-model since he could remember, alongside the noble saints and angels in the Bible stories his father read him at bedtime. It was always from his own favourite Bible he had carried with him everywhere- Black, small- Pocket-sized, in fact- It had a golden cross on it's cover. A King James, of course. From what Barnabas knew, he had carried it everywhere since he, himself, was a child.

Taking his small hand in his, Jacob turned and let the doors in front of him be opened by two footmen standing close by. A grin of excitement made it's way to young Barnabas' face – He enjoyed being able to have breakfast in the dining room with his family; Though it was rarely the case. The norm was that they all ate breakfast in bed... However, Jacob had taken into humble consideration how Barnabas enjoyed being with his family, and had given orders that it be served in the dining hall this particular day. He had succeeded in his goal; Seeing how the demeanor of the already sickly, but bright child had been heightened by this.

Barnabas was seated across from his father and mother, who sat to Jacob's left side at the large, elegant dining table. Most of the time, it had been filled with guests- Nobility, of course – Who sat, and drank wine, and discussed important adult business the poor child couldn't make heads or tails of at the time. It was odd not to see them there, but then again, Barnabas figured they didn't have much business to talk about at all to start. Why? Long story short, their home was quite an attraction for all the Lords and Ladies of London.

It was the newly constructed Mandalay manor – Built after the image of the large timberwood houses which lined the streets of Germany, in many urban centres during the past century or so. It went to show off the family's long-standing German heritage, as well as stand out quite nicely amongst the many "English" looking manors being constructed at the time. As such, many other noble families had stopped in for a visit – Who could pass up a glimpse at such a fascinatingly ethnic vicinity, after all?

From what Barnabas knew, he was the first of the family to have been born in the manor. It had finished it's construction in 1696 – A year before his own birth. However, he had never gotten to see anything but that which was scheduled in his own routine... His room, the foyer, the dining room, the bathing room... And perhaps his parent's study; Though he had only been in there once or twice. Having inherited his father's heart disease, it was impossible for him to go anywhere without risking his own death – He was just too weak to. His father had much more "Immunity" to a weak heart than his son, he was able to walk around and stand, at least. But, Barnabas...

Well, Barnabas was practically born in that wheelchair; And he'd most likely die in it too. Unless...

"Father?" The young boy asked suddenly, a childlike grin on his face. Immediately, Jacob knew what this was about. "Father, might you think that they will come to me sometime this year?" He inquired. "Since I am a grown gentleman now – You said so, yes? Do you think that they shall come?" Rosemary shot a glance at her now smiling husband, who gave a good-spirited reply in turn. "I cannot tell for sure, my son. Why, the legendary Enoch was taken at three hundred and sixty five years even after his close fellowship with God." He paused, thinking what to say for a while. "... However, the Lord is kind. 'Twould not be unexpected that he bring such purity in arms with himself."

Barnabas' young face brightened. Of course, his father spoiled him more than he should have since birth, being heir to the household and all, but to be supported in dreams that most would call crazy... Where would he be without him? Nothing could have made him happier than what his beloved, kindhearted father had just said. ... Except for what was served at breakfast, perhaps. Maybe.

Strawberries and crepes were considered much more of a "Dessert" food for the family- Though, it had been served for breakfast as a birthday treat since- Well... Ever since Barnabas discovered strawberries and crepes to begin, really. At a time like this, it was easy to forget simple table manners – However, he had made an honest attempt at basic civility; Far beyond other boys his age, really- Being raised on what some might call a "Cushion of wealth" had it's benefits, as one might expect.

After it was served, the young male made sure to affirm that his favourite thing hadn't been left out of an otherwise perfect meal. "Miss, did you remember to put extra sugar on the crepes?" As he hoped – And as it always was – The answer was yes.

Leaves blew in the autumn wind as the sound of footsteps and wheels against smooth pavement was heard faintly throughout the gardens. The Mandalay gardens – Despite being overshadowed by a forest stretching miles upon miles – Still managed to flourish and keep a healthy green no matter how little of the sun's rays shown down upon it. One could normally find Barnabas playing here in his free time; speaking to his nanny about many different things. Bible verses which tended to speak to him, future aspirations... Sometimes even secrets that he would tell no one else.

Today had been one such day; though not with his nanny. Yes, while she trailed close behind in pushing the young boy's wheelchair (He wouldn't permit anyone else but Empathy to do it, see) the main person of interest he was speaking to was his father. The smell of fall wafted through the walls of the garden which were beginning to die as the cold set down upon England, though the naive youth paid little attention. Today had marked the beginning of what he felt was an important step into "Adulthood". Of course, Barnabas felt a bit surprised and even shocked at the idea that he's only barely scathed the large cycle of human life. To be living to a ripe old age of sixty – Perhaps even seventy, seemed like a long time to be on Earth. He figured that, if the angels really thought him worthy to be among them, then he'd most likely stay an especially long time. A test, of sorts.

Which is why he had taken extra effort to attempt and comprehend every word his father spoke to him at this time – The very flow of speech could serve to be a valuable life lesson. However, considering the topic of which they were speaking about... Well, the look of unnerve reflected in the youth's large emerald eyes clearly shown his discomfort with the subject. Inheritance. "... See here son, that my wish upon my passing is that you live a comfortable life in service to His name, first and foremost- But aside from that, I wish you will do our family name well and bring power and beauty to the title. In the case of you, my son, 'tis not much to ask of, I assume."

A quaint, somewhat shaky smile was ushered onto the boy's face as attempt to compensate the proud look Jacob had given his son. No doubt about it, what his father said had inspired him... But to hear him speak about dying, in such a manner, made a pit of the inevitable realisation form in the young boy's stomach that he had to go. One way or another. Taking a deep breath in, Barnabas adjusted his wig and gave a queasy nod. "I... I will do the Mandalay family name well, in the future." It sounded more like a proposition than anything, with how his voice raised at the end.

Jacob couldn't help but feel sympathy- Of course, he had seen how disturbed it left the poor child to hear his father talk about his own death when he was still so young. Of course he knew the devastating effects it would have on him when death finally came, regardless of how old Barnabas would be when it happened. But,even so... He knew that what he was saying was genuine. Placing a hand on the young boy's back, Barnabas' gaze shifted up from his lap to his father once more. "Worry not about what still has yet to come, Barnabas. 'Twill be a long while 'fore death has led me off from this world."

Giving a nod, the six year old boy fought back tears and sniffled at the thought of how lonesome everything would be when he passed, wiping his eyes and resuming his stare towards powerless legs for a moment – His next words nothing other than a feeble murmur leaving pale lips.

"... I love you."

How long had it been since then? Barnabas remembered waking up at eight in the morning. He had breakfast with his family at half past eight, and spoke with his father in the gardens at nine... His father was going to read him a bedtime story at nine that night. Everything had been perfect, for the most part... Then it came time for his father to go.

"Unexpected business" was the cause, and it had left the young heir quite saddened by this sudden switch in schedule. He didn't know when he'd be back – Whether it be a few days to a week, he certainly wouldn't be there to read him a story like he had promised... Of course, Barnabas knew he would "Make it up" once he arrived back; However, he couldn't help but feel it was the slightest bit unjust that he be taken away on his birthday like this...

He let it go, regardless.

Barnabas knew just how important his father's trade business was to England and the Mandalay family, and who was he to judge the personal affairs of another person - Much less one as close to him as his father? He couldn't complain. Even at his young age, he knew what would be considered uncouth and immature in the eyes of those around him – How could he be? He was a gentleman, after all! The young boy's extraordinary etiquette, alongside his good breeding (Health aside), was perhaps one of the many things that awed any visitors passing by the Mandalay family household for a spell.

Rosemary, along with the other servants, stood by to bid Jacob farewell on his journey. He had decided on riding horseback to the trading port where his meeting was to take place, taking into account that it was just a ride through the forest and a bit away from London. The horse – A sturdy white stallion with specks of black sprinkled across it's silky fur – Remained still as the nobleman swung his legs over and tipped his hat towards his wife and son. The two servants holding onto the reins backed away, Barnabas taking this chance to give one last farewell. "Do be blessed through your travels father, we bid thee good luck!"

Jacob thanked Barnabas for his blessings and sent the horse on his way, snapping the reins – Unexpectedly, this caused the horse to buck up on it's hind legs before taking off rather promptly. Jacob burst into coughs from the shock of this, nearly falling off in the process. Rosemary's eyes narrowed. Barnabas let out a small gasp. Things seemed okay after that, the horse begrudgingly continuing on its way after a snap of the reins one or two times... And then it stopped.

The horse refused to budge anywhere. A few servants muttered to each other in worry at this, one even going up to Rosemary and asking if they should help interfere. She didn't reply, merely staring straight ahead with her eyes wide and her hand over her heart in concern. In the distance, Jacob could faintly be seen kicking and yelling at the horse to move. Fragments of curses, such as "Blasted thing!" could faintly be made out through the coughs and snorts of the duke and the horse.

"Was he not trained enough?"

"Mistress, please reply! Shall we interfere now!?"

"Goodness, what if the rumours really are true?"

The servants were but a buzz of mumbles at this point, the rise and fall of Barnabas' chest quickening. He had a feeling in his gut that something bad was going to happen. "Empathy, can't you do anything...?" He asked in a small voice. Empathy only shook her head, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Forgive me, your highness... Only the mistress may order me to interfere..." Barnabas looked up at her, eyes wide, before throwing his head back to his mother. His voice remained a small, urgent mutter, regardless. "Mother...? Mother?"

Everything went dead silent for a moment before a collective gasp was heard. Several of the maids screamed. Jacob had been thrown off his horse, and was now laying motionless on the ground. The horse was on it's hind legs now, hooves high up in the air. Barnabas' stomach churned.

What followed next was a sickening crack.

Everything seemed to be a nauseous sort of slow-motion clip by then, from what Barnabas could remember. Only a few specific details remained clear in his head – The sight of blood splattering across vibrant green grass, the horrified scream of his mother as she ran over to her husbands dead body – The shriek of the horse as it was dragged off by two servants. Everything else... Well, it seemed to be a blur. One big, vague blur of black and white to fill in the crevasses.

The young boy whimpered, staring straight ahead in a sort of trance. What had he just seen? What was he seeing now? It certainly didn't feel like reality, whatever it was. What followed next was an ear-piercing scream, one no human could certainly be capable of mustering.

"FATHER!!!"

Emerald eyes opened to the sight of the blinding morning sun.

As expected, the words came out just the same.

"A happy birthday to you, your highness!"


End file.
